Spring into Action.

A sunset over Saray

On a day where I woke knowing I had to bike the unstoppable feeling of lonely away I had an incredible experience on the road. Spring is in the air and dozens of poppy's rise above the other seasonal flowers along the road side. Honey bees buzz from flower to flower and the day time temperatures are not a burden to riding but for the hottest parts of the day. I have decided to head south to the Gollipoli penisular to where I have once been. I am in search of conversation and maybe a wash. No...for sure a wash. I happened upon both in the unlikelest of places.

Dusty roads and the constant winds have dealt a harsh blow to my eyes, drying them out and causing sleepless nights. Stopping into a pharmacy I charaded my way through what I hoped was an eye cleaning kit or at least some drops. Turning away I was told to wait as she spoke on the phone. Not so long there after a chap turned up and asked what the problem was. I was so taken back I kept up the charade. Again his english startled me as we fell into easy conversation. We spoke over Arabian coffee of his post as a captain in the Turkish army as he was positioned with two kiwi soldiers on the boarder of Iraq and Iran during their extended conflict not so many years ago. Not only did I have my english fix, I felt silly for needing it. despite the feeling he was well appreciated when he asked my leave to go for daily prayers.

The Petrol station guy

Riding on for my first consecutive 100km days I pulled into a petrol station just ot of a small farm village. The unlikely gentleman, upon my request for a place to put my tent walked me to an adjacent building where the chapped walls of stucko white entertained two small beds. Smiling he patted me on the back, one of many times he would show such affection. Unlike a previous experience hitchiking in Canada he does not seem the flirting type. After a dinner of curried potatoes and garlic salted yoghurt he drew me a bath. That is to say he boiled an urn of water and topped off a bucket to give me a bucket of warm washing water. Never before has a bucket bath been so refreshing. It felt like a kid when mum would tip water on my head with it tilted back so not to get shampoo in my delicate eyes.

When I first arrived at the station we sat down for a beer and a smoke. Of course after peddling a 100 kilometers I turned down the first offer of a ciggy just to be polite, what I was really saying was; Please insist again so I can choke my way through the first cigarette I have had since I was 12.

Girls putting up my tent...ish

Yesterday I had a bunch of swooning 16 year old girls who insisted that they help put up my tent. They did ok but for the fly on upside down. One of then went on in broken english to say I was a handsome boy and they all liked handsome boys. Wife? Girlfriend? No No. giggle giggle giggle giggle.

I have just clicked over 1500 km for the trip and me and Doris are just dandy. She needs a good clean but otherwise she is doing ok. As am I, despite amazingly fatigued quads each morning and the some bum, there it happened, I am good to go and push on for another few more days yet.

In another interesting moment today, I was having lunch when I noticed a beat up old bike leaning against a stall selling fruit and such. Assuming the person was not coming out any time in the next few miutes I took the front wheel off and repaired the tire and gave the bike a bit of a once over. The lady at the flower stall came over with a tea and the guy who owned the bike came out with a bag full of goodies. Chocolate, coke, wafers all the good stuff, including some ice water.



Doris outside my tent this sunny morning

 We are shaped by the people we met.